Friday, 4 January 2008

On......the aftermath of the accident

He thumped the car brakes. The action was a token one. The impact was to be full and comprehensive. Metal, glass and acrylic fused with skin and bone, forcefully and finally. The horrific union was interrupted only by the perforation of human organs. Wounds shortly gave way to the lamentation and gushing of blood. The thick viscous liquid disregarded the amalgam of metal and flesh, flowing freely and disdainfully in various directions, relentlessly seeking all available avenues in its escape. The pain, as is often the case, was the last thing to come. It arrived, like a corrupt dictator, with an unnecessary entourage and staggered ceremony. It had neither the courtesy nor the consideration to fixate itself in the areas of direct impact. It raced through his entire body with the speed of a bush fire in the harmattan months. The accident was complete save for the immovable, irrefutable shock that transfixes its victim. The kind of shock that causes temporary paralysis and tricks the mind into believing, for a split second, that your injuries are not severe.

This was not yet the time for remorse or for reflection. This was not the time to mentally recreate the events that led to the accident, to question what manoeuvres could have been executed differently to avoid the pedestrian and the traffic light.

This was not the time for pity and penance. It was not yet time to question the madness of drinking the cocktails of vodka, tequila, gin and that obscure punch drink yet still insisting that you had the wherewithal to drive home. This was not the time to curse the friends who should have wrestled you to the ground and ordered you a taxi.

This was not the time for regret or repentance. This was no time to start thinking about loss and the overwhelming baggage that it brings with it. It was not time to think about the two seconds it took you to partially overtake the car in front of you. Two seconds for a lifetime of guilt. A poor trade.

All those emotions are for another day as you lay in the hospital bed recovering from your wounds, praying that God give you the strength to one day recover from the mental anguish of stealing the lives of two people.

This was the time to feel scared, helpless and mortal as you remain attached to the dashboard, with the lifeless body of your best friend by your side and the other hapless victim somewhere between the car, the road and the leaning traffic light.

There are these ads that run in the US. They start typically with some footage from a home video showing some individual(s) doing something random, fun and lively. Then the dates of their deaths would flash across the screen and the words: VICTIMS OF DRUNK DRIVING.

I don't drink and I have little tolerance for those who do in excess and then go out to jeopardise the lives of others. It is selfish and unfair.

And this is properly written. Can you send it to people to read? Maybe they think the seriousness of this is a fashion statement....

Atutu, I've read all your posts and I must admit I was pushed to that glorious brink between an awe-filled smile and tears, from sheer joy at the beauty of your mind; an amazing bitter-sweet feeling that can only be described as Joy in it's purest form. Well done!!

Ah2-2; your topic and delivery is frighteningly real. In the time it took you to write it it had become someone's reality. Like others I hope this reality is not one you have shared because we love you and wish you are spared the pain you captured so eloquently.

My brother from different parents, I hope u are still planning your drive through the states and do remember Route 66 starts in Chicago!

As usual Atutu, this is another brilliant post. Clean, kind and very relevant.Very strong imagery. It 's like something I have watched instead of just read.

And you got me here with such powerful metarphor, about the pain: arrived, like a corrupt dictator, with an unnecessary entourage and staggered ceremony. kai!Altogether lovely. Make we film am turn am to advert na... what u say?

Uncle Atutu: This is the year where I make sure that i show appreciation and give respect when it is due.

Your recent comments at my Nigerian Curiosity blog on Ribadu are 'on point'. No other way to express myself. The situation is touchy and I wonder why our 'leaders' are not more mindful of their actions during such a time of confusion and uncertainty.

Wow, such imagery. Your way with words is astonishing. Is there an emotion that you have NOT evoked in the midst of your writings. The writers here are on strike. Now might be a good time to showcase your abilities the the Writer's Guils of America. You could quite possibly write for the upcoming Oscars! LOL

my one and only atutu. praising ur writing skill will once again sound redundant. great write up..i hope this will create an awareness for anyone who thinks they can drive when intoxicated..ohh happy new year

wow!!...that was intense on sooo many levels...the accident and it's cause...the emotions and feelings described...your magnificent handle and use of the english language...i am floored...beautiful and bittersweet...moving...shames my analysis of yahoozee...(thanks by the way...)..*walks away wondering where she was when God was giving out the beautiful gift of writing*...